


A Sense of Belonging

by fairytale_bliss



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, post-S05E09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23879680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytale_bliss/pseuds/fairytale_bliss
Summary: The drinks were flowing, the laughter was rife, there was song and dance and cheer everywhere she turned, and all of it made her feel more alone than ever.
Relationships: Anna Bates/John Bates
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	A Sense of Belonging

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kristen_APA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristen_APA/gifts).



> Originally written September 2018 as a birthday present for Kristen APA.

The Christmas celebrations without John felt crude. Anna knew that she had to participate in the celebrations, but it was so difficult for her to get into the spirit of things when her spirits were so low. The drinks were flowing, the laughter was rife, there was song and dance and cheer everywhere she turned, and all of it made her feel more alone than ever. Everyone seemed to have someone, whether that was a lover or a friend. She had friends, of course she did, but in this moment, none of them were hers. Mrs. Patmore was with Daisy. Mrs. Hughes had disappeared somewhere with Mr. Carson. Mr. Branson was with Lady Mary and Lady Edith, Miss Sybbie, Master George, and Miss Marigold around their feet. Even Thomas was with some of the younger members of staff. But she…she was alone in this sea of euphoria, her family so far away from her. She closed her eyes and sent up a quick prayer, hoping that wherever John was tonight he was safe and content, if he couldn’t be happy. She hoped he didn’t feel as wretched as she did, anyway. She would never be able to forget the last Christmas they had spent apart, and this felt all too hauntingly familiar. She dabbed at the corner of her eye with her finger and took a shuddering breath. She had politely declined Lord Grantham’s jovial suggestion that she have a drink, but perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Perhaps it would take the edge off her misery.

Before she could edge her way through the crowds to find one after all, however, the festivities were ground to a halt by Lady Mary. She began another lilting hymn, and the rest of the gathering began to join in, the sound almost lifting the roof off Downton. If she hadn’t been feeling so down in the mouth, Anna would have appreciated it for what it was: a gorgeous, tender moment that united every single person standing in Downton’s hallowed halls. She tried to join in, but her attempt was feeble at best, barely a whisper of the words leaving her mouth. God forgive her, but she just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t be happy, not tonight. It was hard enough being strong.

But then came the miracle.

“Happy Christmas.”

It was a tender whisper, ruffling the back of her neck, the voice so achingly familiar that it brought tears to her eyes. For a split-second she was sure that she was imagining things.

But then she felt his reassuring presence right there behind her, and she whipped around, mouth tumbling open.

It was John. Somehow, he was here. Back with her, right where he belonged.

She gasped, but before she could get any words out John tugged on her hand gently and she followed him gladly, pausing a short distance away, hidden in the shadows.

She wanted to weep. Instead she settled for sputtering, “How have you…?” She reached out to touch him again, frightened that he was just an apparition.

He was not.

“Shh,” he said, clasping her hand. “We’ll worry about everything else later. But for now, let’s just have a very happy Christmas.”

All she could do was beam up at him, tears making him shimmer right before her like he was heaven sent. They moved out to the stairwell that would lead them to the servants’ quarters. No one else seemed to have noticed John’s arrival and she did not care enough to find someone to tell. Right now, all she cared about was having her husband.

In the hallway, John hooked his cane over the bannister. His arms moved around her waist and on instinct hers moved to wrap around his neck. He pressed a soft kiss to her mouth that was all too brief, but before she could complain about that fact he had bent at the knees and lifted her clean off her feet.

Time froze as he held her close to him, squeezing her tight. There was a lump in her throat that she couldn’t form words past. She wanted to tell him to put her down, that she didn’t want him hurting himself for her sake, but she couldn’t. This moment was too special, so very long overdue. She never wanted it to end.

But of course it had to. With a groan, John slid her back to the ground. She maintained her tight grip on the front of his shirt.

“Are you all right?” she murmured.

His smile was tinged with pain but was so broad that it bordered on the blinding. “I couldn’t be better, Anna, truly. God, I can’t believe I’m here with you. You’re a sight for my sore old eyes.”

She echoed that sentiment. Three months. Three whole months she had gone without seeing him. It wasn’t their longest stint, but it was far too long considering all they had been forced to live through. They should never have had to deal with another day apart since then. But God seemed to enjoy testing them, and Anna hoped fervently that that was the last. Could they not finally be allowed to live a happy, peaceful life together? Wasn’t that the least they deserved for all of the tribulations they had survived?

“I love you,” she told him tremulously, reaching up to cup his cheek in her palm. His skin was so soft to the touch, and she rubbed the notch in his cheek tenderly, relishing the little hitch in his breathing. He turned his head to the side, kissed her fingertips.

“I love you too,” he told her. “Let’s go home.”

She was suddenly aware of where they were all over again, painfully aware that they were not the only two people in the world. “But what about the party? Lady Mary?”

“Lady Mary would insist that you go if she knew I was here,” said John.

“But we should still tell someone.”

“Mrs. Patmore saw me sneak in. She’s a smart woman, she’ll put two and two together. And she’ll let the rest of them know where we’ve gone. It won’t take much to work that one out.”

“I suppose,” Anna conceded. A part of her still thought that they should tell a member of the family that they were creeping out of the party, but another part, the part that had been deprived of her husband for far too long, was relieved that it had been sorted as easily as that. It was true that the others would be in no doubt that they had gone back down to the cottage, and it wasn’t too much of an indisposition. John would certainly not be expected to return to his duties tonight, and he was right in saying that Lady Mary would insist that she go and spend time with him. The other servants, like Thomas, might have something to say about it, but right at this moment she couldn’t bring herself to care too much about the whispers and the jibes. Let them all say what they wanted. Nothing could mar her elation now.

“What do you say, love?”

“All right,” she agreed. “Let’s go home, Mr. Bates.”

He smiled at her, the crinkles around his eyes deepening in the way that made her heart contract so fiercely for him. He unhooked his cane from the bannister and held out his left hand towards her. She took it without a second’s hesitation. His fingers twined securely through hers, and she could have wept at how right it felt. The slightly calloused fingertips rubbing against hers, the way that his hand totally eclipsed hers, the strength his touched possessed…She smiled, blinking away the tears that had sprung anew.

They stole down the staircase together, the only sound that of John’s cane echoing every time it clunked. It didn’t matter; the servants’ quarters were deserted with everyone at the party and they would not be stopped now. In the hallway they stopped to collect their coats and hats, taking it in turns to help each other on with them. Anna smoothed down the front of his thick travelling coat and sighed, leaning in for just a few seconds to press her nose into the fabric. The smell was so painfully familiar, and she inhaled it deeply. God, she had missed that so much.

“Anna,” said John softly, and she pulled away.

“I know,” she said. “Let’s go home.”

John pushed the back door open and together they stepped out into the chilly evening. Anna wrapped her hand around his and they made their way through the darkness towards their cottage. On colder evenings like this it always seemed to take them longer to reach home, with the temperatures wreaking havoc on John’s knee, and tonight it brought on a painful mix of contradictions. She was desperate to get home, to ensconce them within the safety of their cottage. She never wanted this journey to end, walking as close to him as she was, letting his warm, honeyed voice wash over her as he filled her in on some of the events of the last few months. She still couldn’t believe he was real, and she clutched at his forearm all the way, needing as much contact with him as possible.

At last, the little row of cottages came into view. All were in darkness. For the first time in months, Anna felt glad to be returning here. It hadn’t been a home without him there. It had been too silent, too big, too lonely. She’d felt like a ghost within its walls. But now…now she could start living again.

She slipped the key over to John, giving him the liberty of unlocking the door for the first time in months. He did so with a soft smile, and it creaked open with the familiar groan. He ushered her over the threshold first and closed the door behind them, shutting out the cold wind. The hallway seemed too small for the both of them at the same time, and Anna fiddled with the handle of her bag, suddenly, stupidly, shy. John seemed to sense the change in her, for he took a step closer, moving to cup her cheek in his huge palm. He was freezing, but she nuzzled closer anyway.

“Do you want me to get you anything?” he whispered. “A cup of tea? I could start a fire?”

They were tactics meant to give her more time to process things, and she loved him even more for doing it. That he was still attune to the subtle shifts in her mood, that he loved her enough to do that for her…He was the best of men, no matter what others might sneer or whisper, and she was so lucky to have him.

His gentle words gave her the courage she needed, and she took a deep breath, moving to unbutton her coat. “No, John. I don’t want any of those things. I just want you.”

She couldn’t see his face in the darkness, but she could feel the weight of his gaze upon her, and it burned her from the inside. Her heartrate began to pick up just that little bit more.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes. Let’s just…let’s just go up to bed.”

The atmosphere between them thickened further as she turned in the direction of the staircase. John was right behind her, his looming presence protective at her back. She knew the layout of the cottage like the back of her hand and navigated it easily in the darkness, moving across to her bedside table where the oil lamp was located. She spent a few moments sorting it out, and then dim light flooded their surroundings. She blinked against it, turning back to John, who was still standing in the doorway.

He took her breath away. Everything about him was so beautiful. The broadness of him, his height, his presence…everything about him made her feel so completely safe. He looked a little uncertain now, glancing around the room as if he didn’t quite believe that he was there. She extended her hand towards him.

“Come here, John,” she said softly. Hesitantly, he took his first step forward.

They met in the middle of the room, and she wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing her forehead against his chest. John caressed the small of her back, resting his chin atop her head. For long moments they simply stayed that way, letting the quiet wash over them, adjusting to the perfection of being in one another’s arms once more.

At length, however, she pulled away from him. She knew that John would not make any move to take things further, not tonight. It was down to her to guide him, to let him know that she was all right, that she knew what she wanted. Keeping her gaze locked onto his face, she moved her hands to the buttons on her dress. His breath hitched, but she didn’t let that stop her, working her way slowly down the line. John stayed stock-still, watching her every move.

She wriggled out of the material and let it pool around her feet, tipping her chin back so she could still see him.

“Do you need me to help you?” she murmured.

“Oh, no,” said John, springing into action at once, fumbling with the buttons on his waistcoat. Anna moved towards the edge of the bed and took a seat there, watching him as he had watched her, feeling her desire grow with each article of clothing that he lost. Her heart skipped a beat when his broad chest was exposed to her, as hairy and strong as she remembered. How she longed to press her cheek to it, to revel in his warmth. Soon, she promised herself.

She scooted further up the bed as John finished undressing, following her shyly. His reservation was endearing, and she wrapped her arms around him, encouraging him further up so she could hook his mouth into a kiss.

This one was different to the one they had shared in the stairwell at Downton. That one had been chaste, the two of them never losing sight of where they were. This…this was a kiss purely for them, as husband and wife, and she simply melted into it, opening her mouth beneath his as he pressed further into her. He made a sound deep in the back of his throat, running his hand down her body and coming to a rest on her thigh. She opened her legs for him eagerly, giving him the space he needed to settle himself there.

“Anna,” he breathed, her name like a prayer on his lips, and she fisted her hands into his hair and tugged him back to her, giving in to the demands of her body, to a yearning that had been denied her for so very long.

* * *

In the aftermath, Anna panted hard, her limbs shaking. John slumped down beside her, running a hand through his perspiring hair. When she pressed her own against his chest, she could feel the sweat sheened there. The covers were tangled somewhere at the foot of the bed.

John shifted just slightly, catching her hand and rubbing his thumb over her wedding band. She hummed, forcing herself up so that she could collapse over him. He huffed a little as he took her weight, but he did not protest, immediately moving to wind his fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes against the sensation. God, she had missed that. There was nothing quite as soothing as having his fingers softly caressing her scalp.

“Are you all right?” His voice issued through the darkness, sweetly boyish. She dipped down to kiss him first, answering second.

“More than all right,” she said.

Silence reigned once more, and Anna laid her head against him, staring into the darkness, mulling things over, trying to formulate the best way of wording what she wanted to ask. John must have guessed that there was something on her mind, for he draped his arm across the small of her back.

“What is it?” he prompted.

Anna remained quiet for a few more moments before saying, “How…how do you know that everything’s going to be all right?”

It was a rather heavy question in the wake of what they had just done, and she heard the frown in John’s voice. “Anna, please, let’s not worry about it now.”

“But I can’t not,” she insisted. “I just…I’m so glad you’re here. So, so glad. It’s like a miracle. But I can’t bear to have you taken away from me. Not again.” She would not survive it. He had sacrificed himself for her already, and if anything happened to him…She blinked to dissipate the sudden fierce rush of tears. God, if they caught him and arrested him for murder, put him on trial, hanged him…well, it would be the end of her life too.

“I wouldn’t have come back if I didn’t know that things were going to turn out well for us,” said John, squeezing her. “I’m not a gambling man, and I don’t take unnecessary risks, not where you’re concerned. The evidence that Mr. Molesley and Miss Baxter found will be enough.”

“I’m still on bail,” Anna said quietly, for the first time all evening voicing the thought that still terrified her. “They could still try to pin it on me.”

“Vyner is a bastard,” John growled. “A lying, egotistical excuse of a man. He didn’t care about the facts of the case. He just wanted to exert the power he had, damn the consequences for anyone else.

“ _Exactly_.” Anna’s voice rose in pitch with her agitation. “He’s already done it once before. He can do it again.”

“Not anymore,” said John. “I know I’ve made this promise to you before, and it kills me that I haven’t been able to keep it, but no more. I swear, Anna, this is the last time that I will ever let anyone else hurt you.”

For other people, the words might seem hollow. Might have made them jaded. But through everything she had suffered, her belief in him had never wavered. No matter what might have happened, she trusted him with her life. Nothing would ever change that.

“We’ll sort this out for once and for all,” he asserted. “And then we can start living again.”

“There’s nothing I want more,” she told hm. “I’m so tired of us living our life in the shadows.”

“It’s over,” he said. “We’re going to be all right, Anna.”

Yes, they were. She pushed down her anxieties, resting her ear over his heart. The ancient clock on the bedside table signalled that it was gone midnight.

“Happy Christmas,” she whispered.

John leaned forward enough to press his lips to her temple. “Happy Christmas, my darling.”

She burrowed her head under his chin, letting her eyes drift closed. “I think I’m going to sleep now.”

“Yes, you should,” said John. “Get as much rest as you can. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“I’m not too heavy, am I?”

“You’re perfect,” he said. “I’ve missed having you like this.”

She’d missed being like this with him too. He was a wonderful pillow, soft and pliable beneath her. “You’re not still too warm, are you?”

“No,” he sighed, “no, you’re keeping me toasty. You make a very fine blanket.”

She giggled, shifting just slightly to get more comfortable. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They drifted off to sleep in the flickering light, the first eddies of snow drifting past the window.


End file.
